


nothing on my tongue but

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Confusion, Coulson loves Skye like air, Coulson's a little alien too, F/M, Fighting, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Secrets, Skye is an alien, Skye loves Phil, Skye makes a mess of his office, Skye's flight reflex, The Obelisk, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 2 feels.  Inspired by the Leonard Cohen song "Hallelujah".  I just wanted to write a tender moment between them after a whirlwind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing on my tongue but

“There’s this line here,” she said, tracing along the wall with her finger, letting it feel the groove in the wall.

“It says ‘line unbroken’,” she said.  “It’s intended to represent the chain of command…their loyalty to the leader, but, there was one faction that said the original translation was ‘love unbroken’.  They’re not very popular, though,” she added with a sad smile.

 “Sounds more poetic, less like…orders,” he said, perched on the edge of his desk, watching.

“Like it pulls on your heart, instead of your head,” she said with a little sigh, hugging her arms around herself.

“And all of that from touching the Obelisk,” he asked, a little amazed.

“Raina said it was a…genetic memory, like a download.  At first,” she said, dragging her fingers along the table top, “It was painful.  But by the time I came back here,  I could handle it.  And I could…feel…you.  Before I even saw you.”

“Because of what’s inside of me.”

“Inside of both of us.”

“What does it feel like?” he asked, stirring slightly.

“Something inside me humming.  Buzzing. Trying to get nearer to…”

He swallowed, nodded.

“You feel it, too?” she asked, peering over at him.

“I…,” he smiled slightly, looked down at the floor. “Think I might have categorized it incorrectly.”

Skye raised her eyebrows at him.

“I see,” she said, a blush rising in her cheeks.  She turned away, looked down at the floor, the papers scattered all over it.

It was hard to believe with all of their gentle words and quiet stares that his entire office had been thrown into chaos an hour ago, her demanding to know what he was hiding, telling him she knew everything, she just had to hear him say it.

It was his last stand, his last attempt to shut her out and she had left him without any defenses. He thought he had lost her and the emptiness, the way that had  filled him with dread, was more frightening than anything, more even than the prospect of falling on his knees and begging her to stay.

He let her search his office, push the papers off his desk, yank away the drawers, until she had to stop and be still in the middle of her own whirlwind.  He didn’t even realize he’d been crying until she said something and touched a hand to his face, wiping away a tear with her thumb.

When he couldn’t find the words he just showed her the wall, he took out the knife, began carving as she watched him, intent and focused.

He felt her hand on his shoulder and winced, fear welling up in him.  He’d never been touched when he was like this, and she started saying things, words, as it connected that she was reading back to him what he was writing. He turned to her in shock as she said, very gently:

“You’re not going crazy.”

That was when he had finally let go, falling to his knees, grabbing her waist, realizing how foolish he’d been all along to shut her out.

Like a spell had been broken over him.  He was just waking up.

“You’re not crazy,” she told him, bending down to pick up his papers, drawing him back into the present.

“Leave it,” he said.

“Sir, I trashed your office, the least I can do…”

“Is teach it to me,” he said, cutting her off, standing up off the desk.  “Show me. How to understand.”

She left the papers to the floor and stood up again, staring into his eyes.

“And don’t go,” he added.

“I don’t know that I can, exactly,” she said, her eyes starting to glisten.  “I think we might be…this way.”

“The GH-325,” he stated.  “Because I gave it to you.”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said, running his hand over her hair, then pulling her towards him, against his chest.

“You can’t be _too_ sorry. I’m still alive.”

“That, I’m grateful for,” he said, sighing into the crown of her head.  “Trapping you in my orbit, though?  Seems entirely unfair.”

“ _We_ are orbiting,” she corrected.  “You are not the center of the universe, so don’t get any ideas.”

“What if you were?” he asked, feeling the room get very still.

Skye shifted and pulled away, suddenly anxious, hand rubbing her arm in a soothing gesture.  She seemed unaware of the frown that was tugging at her forehead.

“You do that,” he said.  “Make a joke, but, there’s always something else behind it.”

She relaxed a little at the smile catching at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s just, what you said, it wasn’t what you thought it was, you know, it’s something else, a byproduct of chemical processes, and I don’t want you to think just because there’s this _thing_ , that…”

“ _Skye_ ,” he leaned forward and hushed her with his mouth on hers.

It took her a moment to relax, to still her thoughts and then she was kissing him back, his hand moving from her face to her back and then to her waist, firm and pulling her towards him.

“I wanted this, but I always told myself…” she whispered against his lips.  “ _Tell me I’m not crazy_ …”

“You’re not crazy,” he smiled, leaning his forehead against hers then kissing her again.  “Day one, the first moment I laid eyes on you.  It killed me.  A guy my age should know better.  The hours spent asking myself…not really having a great excuse.  Not being able to stop.”

He tipped her chin up to him.

“I still can’t stop, Skye.  Not even when you go away.”

“Maybe it’s time,” she said, serious-toned.  “To quit telling ourselves to stop.”

Coulson turned his head and looked over at his bare desk for a moment, and then turned back to her with a shrug.

“Well, my desk is currently free, thanks to your earlier efforts.”

“The desk,” she said, through her teeth.

“I’m sorry,” he winced, “That’s really sort of a cliché, isn’t it.”

“And also totally one of my fantasies,” she said, sliding her arms around his neck and tickling the hairs at the nape.

“Fantasies. Plural,” he said, setting his jaw.

She smiled at him knowingly and fluttered her eyes.

“This could still all go wrong,” she said, stumbling for a moment.  “You’re still the Director of SHIELD, and I’m…”

“No, it can’t,” he said, cutting her off.  “You’re here.  With me. The rest of it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” she said, standing up on her toes and kissing him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He took one more look at her before kissing her again, slowly, holding her in his arms, following her angle as she deepened their kiss, his hand twisted in her hair as her fingers loosened his tie, as his hand slipped beneath her shirt and traced over her belly.

Her fingers lingered down the line of his neck after his tie had slipped to the floor, over his scar and his heart.

“ _Skye_ ,” he moaned her name and she sucked in a breath and glanced back at him with excitement, seeing the light in his eyes calling back to her like it always had.

“ _Skye_ ,” he said it again, when she pressed her mouth to him fiercely, pulling the shirt away from his body. 

He was exposed, and her eager hands were exploring his body. 

“ _Skye_.”


End file.
